Jo, Joe, and Joey
by 42 Zombies
Summary: Set 30 years after the current storyline, the Ed's and their children face a crisis of epic proportions. Can they figure out what force is behind a series of bizzare events? Massive Crossover.
1. Chapter 1

It Never Happened

**It Never Happened**

_Author's Notes: Hello, and welcome to the official sequel to _PsychoEd. _No, not the one with the aliens; forget that ever happened. Or the one with Doctor Who; that never happened, either. This is my attempt to re-start the sequels with a story that takes place 30 years in the _future!

_Ooh, spooky!_

_You won't have to have read PsychoEd to follow this; I plan on working stuff in to help people along. Some of the things from the other sequels (Last names, OC's) will remain the same._

_This will be a massive crossover. I do not own Ed, Edd, and Eddy/ Psychonauts/ Johnny the Homicidal Maniac/ anything else that may show up in here. The OC's, however, are my own property._

_This is the last sentence._

* * *

FLASHBACK:

_"Why are you doing this?! This whole thing is insanity!" "I believe it to be the ultimate sanity, actually, Eddward. Mankind has lost its right to think."_

_"But… what you're trying to do—" "War, murder, sin; this all started when Adam and Eve took a bite out of the apple. Besides, God made the mistake of giving man free will; do you really think he's fit to run reality?"_

_"I…" "Deep down, you agree with me. Trying to deny it is like trying to deny you exist. When my plan comes to fruition, you'll come around to my way of seeing things."_

* * *

EDDWARD Hidanstein woke up with a start. He looked at the digital alarm clock next to his queen-sized bed; it was 8:00. He had an hour to get ready for work. He looked down at his small hands; they were sweating.

Eddward—once known as Double D in his younger days—got out of bed tiredly. Why had he dreamt about… _that thing_ that happened 26 years ago? He had been a Senior in High School then.

"Oh, well." He said to himself. His voice hadn't changed much since he was twelve years old.

He rubbed the black ski-cap on his head as he walked to his large wardrobe. He opened it up, pulling out an orange t-shirt and a pair of blue shorts. He also pulled out a clean-as-a-whistle white lab-coat for work.

His name was Eddward Hidanstein. He was 43 years old.

* * *

MEANWHILE…

"And that, class, is why the sun will eventually explode, destroying all of us." The seventh-grade teacher explained to her class full of social miscreants. "If any of you have any questions, you must hold them in until you are unable to speak."

One of the students, a black-haired thirteen-year-old named Donny, raised his hand. "Um… wouldn't there be any way to save the planet?"

The teacher narrowed her eyes at Donny. "Yes," she admitted, "but without a sun we would all die out in a matter of days. So, inevitably, we are all _doomed_."

A ringing bell marked the end of the Forecast of _Doom_. The students left the classroom as quickly as they could—nobody wanted to stay around their teacher too long—and sprinted to their lockers. A few of them, however, took their time.

These three stragglers were a diverse group. One of them, the tallest one, was a skinny boy wearing a white t-shirt with black lines. He wore a pair of glasses—not because he needed them, but because people in glasses generally looked smarter.

The next was the middle one—she had long, black, curly hair going down to her elbows. She wore black shirt and black jeans. She was slightly pale, but this was mostly from an overprotective father.

The third, shortest boy had short, red hair. His green eyes contained a certain amount of cluelessness to them. He wore a long, smelly green jack (several sizes too large) over a blue t-shirt.

They were talking, like friends normally do. Of course, what they were talking about was a bit… different.

"I'm telling you, Jo, the Titanic wasn't real!" The tallest boy argued with the girl. "It was just a movie!"

"Yup! Just like the Civil War!" The shortest boy nodded happily.

"Okay, you're both idiots; I've read my dad's history books, like, a dozen times, and both of those things really happened." The girl, Johanna, glared at her two friends.

The tallest one, Joe, could only laugh at his friend's ignorance. "Yeah, right; show me some proof that the Civil War really happened." "Yeah! And show me some proof that Frankenstein didn't!" The shortest of the three, Joey, added.

Johanna (Jo) shook her head at her two friends.

* * *

BALVETECH LABS:

BALVETECH Labs was owned and run by the mysterious Mr. Balve, a wealthy yet reclusive businessman. It was the place where many of the country's top scientists came to work. Some of them didn't even have to commute.

Eddward was one of these people. His house was only a few miles away from the workplace. Oh, sure, his family wasn't too happy with the constant noises of the lab's experiments, but it was worth it all to be on time every morning.

In his white lab coat, the 43-year-old man carefully poured a test-tube of something green into something blue. It turned red. A thing turning red was apparently good in this situation, as a large smile appeared on the scientist's face.

The lab he was using was more-or-less empty right now. He was pretty much the only scientist in the room. Everyone else was either working on the Positive Molecule Reverser (patent pending) or looking in microscopes.

"I take it things are going Robin, then?"

That was why Eddward jumped when he heard the Cockney voice. He turned around and came face-to-face with another scientist. He had thinning, silver hair and blue, child-like eyes. His hands were in his pocket and his mouth was in a wide smile.

"Oh, don't follow?" The man asked. "It's rhyming slang, mate. Robin—Robin Hood, good. Name's Dante, by the way; just got transferred here."

Eddward smiled politely and extended his hand in proper greetings. "Welcome to the lab, erm… Dante. My name is Doctor Eddward Hidanstein."

A look of recognition passed over Dante's face. "Eh, Hidanstein? Ain't he the one who—" "N-No." Eddward quickly interrupted Dante's sentence. He didn't need anyone bringing _that_ up again.

Dante shrugged and didn't pick up Eddward's quickness to cover it up. "Must be someone else, then. Oh, well. So, what do you do around here?"

Eddward rubbed the back of his neck embarrassingly. Whenever he told someone, they usually burst into laughter. "Um… I—I research the possibility of alternate dimensions."

Genuine amazement appeared on Dante's face. "Oh, that's brown, ain't it? Oh, sorry—brown rice, nice. So, what exactly have you butter—butter churned, learned—so far?"

Eddward decided to ignore Dante's strange speech patterns and a smile appeared on his face. "Well, I theorize that each dimension has a unique wavelength; that is, the way the universe is constructed in a way that corresponds with a certain number."

To Eddward's surprised, Dante seemed to actually be taking this seriously—what's more, he actually seemed to be _thinking_ about it.

"Um… it is my opinion that the farther apart two dimensions' wavelengths are, the more differences are in them. According to calculations I've made using the lab's supercomputer, I think it's safe to assume that this dimension's wavelength number is 460.77."

Dante nodded thoughtfully. "Anyone else know about this?"

Eddward stared at Dante in confusion for a few seconds. Something had changed in his voice.

"Um… I-I told my wife, of course. That and I called one of my old friends from my childhood." He noticed Dante's cheerful face change into a serious, more worried one. "A-Are you okay?"

Dante immediately adopted his cheerful face once again. "Oh, it's nothing, mate. This is just some interesting rough… rough and tough—stuff. Sorry if my slang's a little confusing, mate… mate—china plate… no, wait, that was backwards."

The silver-haired scientist turned around and exited the lab. A small smile appeared on his face when he was out of Eddward's view. That had gone almost exactly as planned.

* * *

JOE:

"_God, I hate school._"

Joe sighed irritably. His mom hadn't come to pick him up so now he had to _walk_ home. When he got home he'd probably have to cuss at his little brother.

"_Why can't dad ever pick me up? He owns a freaking used car place._" Joe turned continued walking down the sidewalk that, after about half-an-hour, would lead him home.

"_Better yet, why can't I just ride the stinking bus? What, is it because our house is so close? Maybe I could've gotten a ride with Joey… nah, his mom's ugly-looking. Maybe I could've ridden the bus with Jo… then, when we got to her house—_"

Joe stopped his thoughts and growled more angrily than before. Jo was his friend; why the hell was he thinking about her like this? Plus, she didn't really have a lot going on…

Joe rounded the corner and continued walking down the sidewalk. All of the apartment buildings looked the same; sometimes he couldn't find his own place. He continued walking for fifteen minutes until he came to the apartment building.

Stepping in the front door, the smell of poverty (or, in his father's case, cheapness) lingered everywhere. The wallpaper was peeling, the rats had graffiti on them, and the paintings on the wall all had mold on them.

Joe walked up the steps of the apartment building until he came to room 4C. He unlocked the door and stepped inside to the sound of a quiet home.

"Hey, mom! You got any food ready for me?"

The only answer was the sound of his baby brother crying. Confused, Joe closed the door and walked into the living room. The green couch, shag carpeting, and posters were reminders of days gone by. However, neither of his parents had been alive in the 70's.

He sat down on the couch and noticed something on the coffee table. He picked it up—a note, something in an envelope, and a wad of money (Possibly the only good kind of wad).

Joe put the money and envelope on his lap and unfolded the letter. It had been written by his mother.

_Joe,_

_Going to be gone for a while. Take care of your brother while we're out. Money is for food and basic needs. Don't drink your father's beer again._

_Love,_

_Mom and Dad_

Joe shrugged. He'd learned three things from the letter—they actually expected him to tack care of someone other than himself; the money could be used for 'food'; and that he couldn't drink his dad's beer. It didn't, however, say anything about his _mom's_ beer.

Joe turned the letter over and saw something else written on the back. His dad had written this.

_Hey squirt,_

_Don't use what's in the envelope unless there's a __real__ emergency. Make sure the other squirt doesn't eat any of my quarters again._

Well, that last one went without saying; how else would Joe steal them? But the instructions about the envelope puzzled Joe. What did his dad mean by 'emergency'? Like, running out of money?

Joe shrugged it off and decided to look at what was in the envelope after he and his brother had eaten something. With nothing else on his mind except where his parents kept the _Pedo-Brand Baby Food_, the fourteen-year-old walked into the kitchen.

How could he know anything was wrong?

* * *

Author's Notes: _Man, I'm taking a big risk with this story. I just don't want PsychoEd to be an entirely sequel-based storyline, y'know? Well, anyways, read and review._

Next Time: HOUSE


	2. HOUSE

HOUSE

**HOUSE**

* * *

FLASHBACK:

_Eddy laughed. He couldn't help it. The car crash was understandably hilarious; maybe that would teach people that Ed shouldn't be allowed on the road._

_At sixteen, not much had changed about Eddy. He was still the shortest guy in the school—only taller by a few inches. The same applied to Ed, who, having outgrown his old, green jacket, now simply wore his red-and-white t-shirt._

_Double D, of course, wasn't there. He never was._

_"How you feeling, lumpy?" Eddy asked as his friend wobbled out of the scrap that had once been a car. He was, remarkably, unscathed—what else was new?_

_"Oh… Eddy, I think I lost my jengajam."_

_Eddy chuckled a little. "That's real great, Ed, but I'm pretty sure you're not going to get your license."_

* * *

NEW JERSEY:

It was a dark and stormy night.

No, wait; it was just an average night. No storm or special kind of darkness. Of course, considering that it was New Jersey, it might have been better for it to be dark. Nobody wants to look at that.

A skyscraper rose above all of the other buildings in the Jersey town. At twenty stories tall, the building was owned by Magic, Inc. This was advertised in bright, blue neon letters on the front of the building.

This, however, was just the tip of the iceberg.

Several miles below the building was a large, spacious basement. An elevator at the back opened up and out stepped a man in a trench-coat. He had no identifying features except for the coat, hat, and gloves he wore, which hid every inch of his body.

The man reached into his coat pocket and pulled out a watch. Everyone was five minutes late. Why the hell were they late? This was, most-likely, the most-important meeting of the organization yet and these idiots had the guts to show up late?

"I take it everyone's a little hot? Hot date—late."

The man in the coat turned around and found himself face-to-face with the silver-haired Englishman Dante. Dante's typical cheerful smile greeted the man as it always did.

The man sighed. He hated Dante the most out of everyone in the group. The smug grin; the annoying accent; but, most of all, the rhyming slang. Why couldn't he just talk normal?

"I guess we'll have to wait for them, won't we?" Dante walked over to a large conference table in the center of the room and took a seat at the head. "When they do get here, though, they'd better have a good excuse."

* * *

MEANWHILE:

It was a dark and stormy night.

No. No, that's wrong again. It was just an average night over the city where Eddward worked. He always worked late—it was in his nature to do his job, clean everything, and leave in as tidy a way as possible.

Therefore, it was unexpected for him to receive a phone call at ten o'clock PM. He was doing something very scientific when the voice said over the PA: _"Dr. Hidanstein, you have a call."_

Eddward winced at the use of his surname—it wasn't comfortable for him, what with his family history. Alone in the lab, he looked at the phone on the wall. He walked over to it and picked it up. After a few seconds, there was a girl's voice:

_"Dad?"_

"Yes? What is it? I'm very busy."

_"S-Sorry, dad. I was just wondering if you knew where mom was."_

The scientist sighed. "No. She's probably away on business. Did she leave a note?"

_"No note; not on the fridge or the TV or anything. I even took down some of the older notes. Uh… dad, I've been meaning to ask what mom's job is for—"_

"That's not important!" Eddward said hastily. "Um… j-just go to bed. I'll call your mother in the morning."

_"Yes, dad… I love you."_

Eddward smiled. "You, too… good-night, Johanna."

* * *

NEW JERSEY:

It was a dark and stormy—

Dang it! It was neither dark, stormy, nor both. And, after two hours had passed, nobody else had shown up in the underground bunker. Dante twiddled his thumbs anxiously as the boredom suffocated him. The man in the trench-coat leaned against a wall thoughtfully.

Finally, after a few more minutes of waiting, Dante said something. "This is boring, ain't it?" He got up out of his seat. "Maybe nobody's coming; maybe they all got fed-up with how long it's taken so far and they want to try on their own."

The man in the trench-coat sighed. If the lights went out and he could just get a clear shot at the silver-haired bastard…

"They'll get here eventually." The man muttered. "Some of them need to travel a long way, Dante; be a little patient… or else."

Dante merely shrugged at the man's threat. "I'll be as patient as I can with you breathing down my check; check—neck."

The man's own patience finally reached its peak. "Would you cut out the freaking rhyming slang?! Who even uses that anymore?!"

The cheerfulness in Dante's smile turned into an imp's maliciousness. "Oh, so what was that you were saying about patience, china? China plate: mate. Yes, I'm using the slang just to piss you off right now."

Trench-coat growled at Dante threateningly. "I've got more power than you in this group, noob. I don't know why you're even a part of this."

Dante's grin widened even more. "Oh, you're going to try and get me kicked out? Fine, mate—let's just see how well that plays out!"

The insane voice of reason reached Trench-coat's ears. There was no way he could get Dante kicked out; he was too valuable.

Realizing he'd won, Dante sat back down and stared at Trench-coat mockingly. He was almost untouchable—a ghost in a world of idiots.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY:

It was a dark and stormy morning.

The sun was shining, birds were doing bird-like things, and school kids were mercilessly tormenting each other. It was, after all, Middle School. If someone wasn't sad then it just wasn't normal.

The most popular place for this kind of torment was the bathroom. Girls were reasonably safe due to their habit of using it in packs, much like the regal wildebeest.

Boys, however, were lone wolves in the bathroom; and the smaller wolves were beaten senseless by the larger wolves, which were usually either gangster wolves or redneck hounds.

That analogy might have gotten a little carried away.

The unfortunate victim for that particular Wednesday was one Josh Thomas. Josh was one of the 'nerds' of Middle School society—he still played games most others had outgrown in their grade school days and he often said things that, through no fault of his own, got him made fun of.

"Heh-heh…" As one of Josh's tormenters pushed him into a wall, more joined in one the fun. "By beating him up, I seem more masculine!"

One of the lummoxes gasped. "It's true! Let me try!"

What followed was a game of catch played with a living person. The bullies tossed Josh around happily until the door to the boy's room opened. A blonde-haired young man in a red, smiley-face t-shirt stood in the doorway. Despite the cheerful image on his shirt, his face was the picture-perfect definition of cold indifference.

"Do you idiots have to do this in the bathroom?" He asked harshly. His voice had all the kindness of a knife.

Like scared puppies, the thugs stopped what they were doing almost immediately. They all quickly ran out of the bathroom, leaving the blonde-haired young man with Josh.

"You didn't have to do that, Randolph." Josh muttered. He addressed everyone by their full name—it didn't matter what they preferred to be called.

Randolph merely shrugged. "I needed to use the bathroom and those idiots weren't going to leave any time soon. If you grew a spine and stood up to them then you might not get picked on so much."

Randolph's words stung. What was worse was that this was as nice as he ever acted.

"Stand up for yourself; hit them where it hurts and maybe you'll finally get some respect in this dump."

With these words of advice, Randolph walked into one of the stalls.

* * *

NEW JERSEY:

"What do you mean, 'You're not coming'?!"

Trench-coat's cell-phone responded in a static-y, garbled message. "But we need _someone_ to show up! Otherwise, this will have been a huge waste of time!"

Dante watched Trench-coat's argument with little interest. He had been in this God-forsaken meeting room for too long now. The Englishman got out of his seat and proceeded to walk towards the elevator.

Trench-coat saw this and immediately glared at him. "Where the hell do you think you're going?! This is an important meeting!"

"In a pig's eye, mate!" Dante mocked. "This whole thing's a disaster! Nobody but you and me showed up; hell, the _boss_ didn't even come!"

Trench-coat turned his cell phone off and sighed, As much as he loathed admitting it, Dante had a point. There was no point in staying there if nobody was going to show up.

"I just hope everyone does what they're supposed to do." He murmured. If things didn't go as the meeting's organizer predicted… well, he tried not to think about that.

With the push of a button, Dante opened the elevator and stepped inside. Trench-coat sighed before following him in. The sliding doors shut and the two left the room.

* * *

A SINGLE, RED eye watched the two leave the conference room. The face that held the eye twisted into a sad grimace. He hated that his cohorts couldn't see him—how could he help their plans if they had no idea he existed?

The red-eyed creature sighed. He knew what he would have to do to help their plan—hopefully he could find someone to help him.

* * *

Author's Notes:_ Just review._

Next Time: Eddy: On the Run


	3. Eddy: On the Run

Eddy:

**Eddy:**

**On the Run**

_

* * *

_

"…The recent increase in violent crimes has been attributed to terrorist attacks. Psychonaut agents are being sent in to investigate. Grand Head of the Psychonauts, Sasha Nein, has been quoted as saying—"

Eddy switched the car radio off as he focused on the black road ahead of him. He was tired of hearing about the Psychonauts in the news all the time. Maybe tired wasn't the right word—maybe he was more annoyed.

The man was still short; he had no control over that, no matter what he said. He more or less dressed the same as he did in his younger days (he at least thought it was a good look). Over-all, he hadn't changed very much.

The clunky, dented piece of crap he was driving shook and bounced with ever crack and tiny bump in the road. He drove past a large, tourist-friendly sign reading:

**"****WELCOME TO DOOM CITY!****"**

He didn't have time to read the town's name.

* * *

JOE:

Joe dropped the wad of cash on his kitchen table. Jo and Joey stared at it in amazement before Jo asked a question:

"Your parents just left?"

Joe shrugged and pulled the note he'd found out of his pocket. "They left this, though; so me and the squirt probably won't be alone for long."

Joey stared at the note for a few seconds. "Um… how are you going to eat money?"

For a moment, neither Joe nor Jo could believe what Joey had said. "Um… he's supposed to spend the money on food." Jo corrected coolly. "Not eat it, like in the old Quizno's commercials."

A laugh stopped Jo's pulse. She looked at Joey, who had a disturbing smile on his face as he stared at the money. Almost everything about Joe was normal… except his laugh. It sounded like something out of Hell.

"Of course, I could spend this money on a little more than food." Joe mused wickedly. "I mean, it's been a while since anyone's thrown a really good party… and I think mom and pop left me enough cash to do just that."

Joey's childlike eyes widened in excitement, the promise of fun tickling him like feathers. "A party! Will there be clowns?"

Jo, however, was less enthusiastic. She grabbed the money from the table before Joe could do whatever he planned with it. "Are you insane?! You have a little brother, Joe!"

Joe sighed and shook his head, pitying Jo and her lameness. "I've got, like, a couple months of baby food. My mom stocks up on the stuff. Besides, I'll make sure to save money afterwards. There's, like… 900 dollars; maybe even 1,000?"

It didn't occur to him that that was a lot of money to leave a kid just for a little while.

* * *

DOOM CITY:

The pink-robed landlady glared at Eddy angrily. "Right… the weirdo lives on the fourth floor. Why are you visiting him? The guy's a nutcase."

Eddy looked up at the Arcudi Apartments. He _really_ hated having to turn to _this_ guy for help. He had some memories of him from when he grew up in Peach Creek. Still, this guy was the closest he could turn to…

"He lives in apartment 4C." The landlady said as she stepped aside. Eddy, carrying only a small suitcase, walked through the front door. Wait… apartment 4C? Why did that sound familiar?

The short, little man walked up four flights of stairs. Finally, he reached door 4C. To his disdain, its occupant had drawn eyes and a smiling mouth on the door. Regretfully, Eddy knocked on the door.

A tall, bald man with a freakishly large head opened the door. "… Eddy? Holy cow!"

Eddy forced a smile and nodded at the room's occupant. "Yeah. Hey, Jonny. Um… nice to see you, I guess."

Jonny happily stood aside to let Eddy into his apartment. When Eddy walked in, he was surprised at its quality; it was a studio apartment, painted in an all-wood motif. Kitchen, bedroom, and living room were all combined into one. It took Eddy a few seconds to see something all too familiar; a piece of wood with a face drawn on it.

"We didn't expect to see ya, Eddy!" Jonny exclaimed. "Me and Plank would've made some tofu sandwiches if you'd called!" Yeah. Called. As if they weren't listening in for his phone calls.

But Jonny didn't need to know anything yet. "Um… me and my wife had a fight. Could I stay here for a while?"

Jonny turned his head and stared at Eddy. "But… you live two towns away, don't y—"

Eddy grabbed his side and gasped in pain. He collapsed on the floor writhing in horrible agony. "OH, GOD! THE PAIN! MY BRAIN'S MELTING!"

Genuine shock appeared on Jonny's face. He looked around helplessly, wondering what he should do. Eddy screamed like a baby as Jonny walked over to a phone.

"NO!"

Eddy's voice was surprisingly pain-free. Jonny turned to see that Eddy was back on his feet, though still looking a little woozy. "I don't need to go to a doctor, just… I need a place to stay, buddy!"

That was slightly suspicious, Jonny had to admit. But it seemed like Eddy really needed somewhere to stay. "Well… I guess you can sleep on a futon or something."

Eddy stared at a bright-green couch in the middle of the apartment. "Um… why can't I sleep there?" "Plank sleeps there."

* * *

LATER, AT A PLACE:

The music pounded like a synthetic heartbeat. Nobody danced—the apartment was too small for that. Darkness filled the room while confusing, seizure-inducing light effects danced on the ceiling and walls.

Joe leaned against the apartment door proudly as he stared at the party. Middle-school kids didn't usually excel at this sort of thing, but Joe had a certain charisma that made almost everything he touched turn to gold. Just like Hercules.

He was surprised by some of the people who'd turned up—Randolph wasn't the partying type but he'd shown up for some reason. Joe also noticed that twins Donny and Dana had arrived. Also, for some reason, that wimpy little Josh kid had come.

Everyone was eating, talking, slightly-dancing, or for some reason wearing Halloween costumes. Joe had gotten Jo's dad, a man named Eddward, to watch his little brother.

Jo walked up to Joe and sighed. "You really shouldn't have done this, Joseph. It'll come back to bite you in the butt. Or… face, maybe."

Joe shook his head stubbornly and grinned. "I can do whatever I want with my parents gone. Besides, this thing's gonna be great! If it goes well enough I might finally impress… _Peter._"

The world stood still for a moment when Joe said that name.

"Besides, Randolph's here." Joe started getting less cheerful. "Don't you have a crush on him?"

Jo's face turned slightly pink. "Randy? No, that guy's too angry. I mean, he… um… what have you heard? Did _Peter_ say something?"

Once again, the sheer force of that name made a thousand children stop crying.

Joe, however, didn't care about that person's magic ability to make babies stop crying. He merely grimaced at Jo's question. "Look, Randy's not that great, okay? The guy's mom's scary."

His friend merely sighed and walked off. Joe returned the sigh, a slight sadness setting in. He wasn't comfortable with the way he felt about Jo; he also wasn't comfortable about how she felt about Randy… whatever his last name was.

Still, the party was going great.

* * *

THE NEXT DAY, SOMETHING HAPPENS:

Joe opened his eyes tiredly and looked around. His bedroom was trashed—apparently some of the people he'd invited had thought it would be a good idea to use his laptop as a drum… with hammers. Also, for some reason, there were squirrels duct-taped to his ceiling.

Joe walked out of his bedroom. It was Saturday, so there was no school—and it also meant new episodes of _Domino Man_ and reruns of old anime on channel 129. Joey was asleep on Joe's couch, and Jo was in his parent's room—it had been too late for them to go home on their own.

With a yawn, Joe walked over to the phone and dialed the local Pizza Butt. Pizza for breakfast was his favorite thing next to breakfast for dinner. After he placed his order, Joe turned on the TV and sat down on Joey. He wouldn't mind.

It was the news. Stephen Stewart, the anchorman, read with all the emotion of a hammer. A series of seemingly random images accompanied his voice.

_"… And there were no survivors. On a lighter note, wife of noted scientist Eddward Hidanstein has vanished without a trace."_

Joe dropped the remote. Two things ran through his mind—A, how was that a lighter note? And B, Jo's mom was missing?!

_"Yes, she's missing. The scientist was unavailable for a comment because some jerk had asked him to take care of a baby. Hidanstein's daughter, Johanna, was also unavailable. Our hopes go out to both of them. In other news, one Jet and one Shark died last night in a choreographed fight."_

Joe picked up the remote and quickly turned the TV off. Why would Jo's mom go missing? As Joe pondered this, he felt Joey waking up and stood up.

Joey yawned and sat up. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he grinned at Joe. "Hey, man! Nice party last night! I especially liked the clown! No, wait… that was Randy; he's not a clown, he's scary."

Joey's smiling face instantly sent a thought into Joe's head like a bullet; should he tell anyone about this? Joey was so naive and childlike—he couldn't keep a secret, even if it would decrease his manliness. And he definitely couldn't tell Johanna—what would it do to her?

"Yeah… um… Joey, maybe you should head home. Your parents are probably, like… worried or something."

Joey simply smiled. Joe's nervous disposition was completely transparent to him. "Nah—half the time my dad doesn't even know he has a son. He's cool like that."

There was a sound of footsteps against the wooden apartment floor. Johanna, still wearing last night's clothes, walked into the TV room. She gave a small yawn (Joe angrily realized he thought it was cute) before sitting in-between her two friends on the couch.

"That was, by far, the stupidest thing you've done yet. I say 'yet' because you're not in high school."

"Hey, I have some money left!" Joe glared at Johanna. (Hard to do, knowing her mom had vanished) "Besides, you talked to that jerk Randy, didn't you?"

"How am I a jerk, Joe?"

The three Joe's realized that Randy was standing in the apartment, staring them down judgingly. The door was still locked, so how the hell had he gotten in?

"It would be a good idea not to insult me." Randy whispered. His voice tended to suck the joy out of all but the most idiotic. Even Joey was not exempt (He could manage a C-minus with a lot of effort), and his cheery grin slowly faded.

"Do you just appear in people's houses whenever they insult you?" Joe asked irritably. He (Who could only manage a D-plus at best in any subject) stared down the intruder, who didn't seem to realize the joke.

"Yes. I also appear whenever they've done something that was, by far, the stupidest thing they've done yet. I say 'yet' because you're not in high school. With your grades, I doubt you ever will be."

"Joe's pretty smart!" Johanna defended cautiously. "It's just, you know… grades."

"I'm not saying grades mean anything intelligence-wise—I'm just saying the schools don't like it when people can't remember what they force down our throats." Randy simply shrugged. "I never fail because I never lose—it's not in my character."

* * *

ME(A)NWHILE…

_"…The scientist was unavailable for a comment because some jerk had asked him to take care of a baby. Hidanstein's daughter, Johanna, was also unavailable. Our hopes go out to both of them. In other news, one Jet and one Shark died last night in a choreographed fight."_

Eddy watched the news broadcast nervously. "Damn it… who found her? If it was Dante and his crew she'll have nothing to worry about, but if it's one of the others…"

"PANCAKES!"

Jonny's screeching voice caused Eddy to jump off of the couch in fear. He looked back at the couch and at the smiling piece of wood sitting on it. He _really_ hated Plank.

The big-headed man stepped out of the kitchen, carrying a plate with pancakes piled generously high. Eddy noticed that there were twigs and leaves sticking out of the breakfast.

"I made pancakes!" As if that fact needed repeating. Jonny joyfully sat the plate on the table in front of the couch. As Eddy stared at the breakfast, not sure if he should eat it or use it as kindling, Jonny grinned. "It sure is fun having you around, Eddy! I mean, Plank's great, but sometimes he can be bossy."

Eddy simply nodded and stood up politely, refusing the breakfast. "If it's all the same to you, Jonny, I'd rather just skip breakfast today. I'm under a lot of stress after whatever I told you happened." He sighed and turned, looking out of the apartment window from a distance.

It took him a second to realize that the sun was completely blacked out.

* * *

JJJ:

There was a knocking noise from the door.

"That's probably the pizza guy." Joe explained. He walked over to the door, but not before shooting a look of pure disdain at Randy. He reached for the doorknob and slowly opened the door.

In an instant, a hand shot out and grabbed Joe by the throat. The hand was wrinkled and old, yet it still had a youthful strength in its grasp. The body connected to the hand was just as old if not older. The face connected to the body (connected to the hand) gave Joe a toothy smile. Yellow, cracked teeth were revealed.

"_Sveikinimai visiems_. Where is Johanna Hidanstein?"

* * *

Next Time: Eddy: Factions


	4. Eddy: Factions

**Eddy:**

**Factions**

"_A house divided cannot stand." – Abraham Lincoln_

* * *

When Joe had woken up in the morning, he had planned to do many things: watch some anime, eat pizza, not do his homework, look through his dad's piggy bank… being in the iron grasp of an old man was not one of these things.

"I will ask you again." The man had a thick… foreign accent. Joe wasn't exactly well-traveled. "Where is Johanna Hidanstein? If you answer, nobody has to die."

The sick, Charles Manson grin decorating the geezer's face said otherwise.

Joe moved his eyes to glance at his friends—they could see what was happening to him, but the damned cowards all sat motionless! Joe let out a small sob when he saw that Jo was petrified. But he counted the two people in the living-room and realized…

Randy was missing.

* * *

IN HIS LIFE, Eddy's oppositional personality and egotistical behavior had earned him a small collection of enemies. His school years had been horrible—practically everyone hated him, and this planted a deep desire for attention and paranoia in him. This, of course, created even more enemies. It was to be expected from a person like him; however, he was truly surprised when he had seen the enemies that Double D had developed over the course of a few years.

The eclipsed sun that hung over the city made it clear that one of two things was about to happen: either a group of people with a connected past would develop strange abilities and have to save a cheerleader, or the door would be kicked down in a matter of seconds.

The latter proved to be true, as the door was blown off of its hinges by a powerful force in a matter of seconds.

"HOLY JUMPING BANANA BOAT!" Jonny exclaimed. With his Kindergarten teacher's salary it would be difficult to replace the door. Whatever had blown the door down seemed to have vanished.

Eddy calmly turned to face the door. For an instant, he was fooled by the lack of an intruder—then he remembered who he was dealing with.

"A psychic?"

An empty space before Eddy was suddenly filled with a human form. A young man—around fifteen or sixteen—smiled weakly at him. The youth's shirt had something written on it—a mindless, overused pop culture reference, most-likely. His hair was blonde and cut so short he was almost bald.

"Uh… sorry about the door." The young man apologized meekly. "Not that I really need to apologize to you, but… well, you know, it's still polite—then again, I guess that you're—" He sighed and stopped himself. "My first solo job and I'm already making an idiot out of myself…"

"What's your name?" Eddy asked. Whoever the kid was, he didn't seem too focused—Eddy could distract him for a bit if he tried. As the kid stuttered nervously, Eddy pointed Jonny to a phone on the living room wall. Big-head nodded as he made his way to it, staying behind the intruder.

"The… oh, man… uh… my name's Ego." The young man answered ironically. "Look, do you have, like, some coffee or something? I _really_ need some coffee."

It was hard not to laugh—this 'Ego' guy was the most embarrassing kidnapper ever. "Cut the crap, Igor." Eddy ordered. "Just tell me which side you work for."

For once, there was a flare of confidence in Ego's eyes. "N-No way!" He defied. "I was given direct orders to not tell you who I was taking you to. The Wizard said that if I told you anything he'd put me in solitary!"

Eddy raised an eyebrow and then scoffed. "You work for the Wizard? I guess it makes sense—you're not creepy enough to be one of the others. But why couldn't he send someone with a little spine, like Dante or the weirdo in the trench-coat?"

Jonny watched the strange conversation and tried to keep up as best he could. The situation was similar to seeing the third movie in a trilogy without seeing the first two—however, unlike a movie, there was no clumsy exposition here. He slowly crept towards the phone as he kept his eye on Ego.

"He wanted to see how I could do on my own." Ego admitted. He wasn't used to being alone—never. "Um… I'm going to kind of kidnap you. Do you think you could just come peacefully?"

Eddy grimaced. Right now, 'peace' meant 'hopelessness'. After all, what could he do? He'd given his weapon to Joe.

* * *

BE POWERFUL, crush others, and, if you want something, don't let it get destroyed. These were some of the lessons that Randy's mother had taught him.

These were some of the _kinder_ lessons.

When the old man had grabbed Joe, Randy ran into another room. It wasn't out of fear—Randy could never recall a time when he had been afraid. He had ran out of a desire for an advantage—a desire all humans possess in varying degrees.

Randy didn't particularly like Joe or Joey. Johanna was fine, and at times he felt that he thought on the same brain-level as her. If anything, he wanted this advantage so he could protect her. He could hear the old man ask about her again, and he quickly looked around the room he had ran into.

It was Joe's room.

In desperation, Randy looked for something he could use as a weapon—a golf club that Joe's uncle had bought him caught his eye.

* * *

"I'M BEING quite generous and you _still_ refuse to answer!" The old man laughed in Joe's face at this—his breath smelled like death. "If you're one of those suicidal kids that play around with death then I don't see why I shouldn't kill you!"

Joe tried to kick the old man but he couldn't move his feet—was he that terrified?

The old man groaned angrily. It was the kind of sarcastic anger that you use with your best friends—he seemed like he was almost smiling. "Fine." He accepted. "I guess you'll have to die."

Before the man's vague threat could be realized, Joe saw the man's face change from sadistic glee to confused joy. In a matter of seconds, a familiar-looking golf club whizzed over Joe's shoulder and into the man's face. The man let go of Joe and clutched his now-bleeding forehead.

Joe backed up as quickly as he could and turned around. He saw Randy, carrying the only present Joe's uncle had ever given him. Joe quickly looked over at the couch and saw his friends stand up and run behind Randy.

Oh. Now they moved. Now that Randy had a golf club, they moved.

Through blood pouring down his face, the old man laughed quietly. "I don't get it… I made sure you were all petrified with fear!" He glared at Randy through his fingers. A single, bloodshot eye was visible through the cracks. "How could you attack me?"

The man took his hands off his face. His forehead was bleeding heavily and his nose had been pounded until it was almost sideways. This, if it was possible, increased his mad, frenzied look. He grinned his yellow smile, spilling blood out of his mouth.

"I'm so excited…" he spat joyously. "I get to kill something that's more than human."

* * *

IF YOU close your eyes, does the world vanish for an instant?

Jonny opened his eyes to realize that his apartment was now completely empty. All of Jonny's furniture and even his TV had vanished. The only things remaining were Plank, lying face-down on the floor, and the phone.

Wait… why was the phone off the hook? Jonny struggled to remember if he had made a call, but found nothing—in fact, he couldn't remember anything since yesterday morning.

Why was the door knocked off of its hinges?

Jonny sat down on the hardwood floor and held his throbbing head. He felt like an alarm clock—constantly ringing until you get hit. He closed his eyes and tried to make the pain go away.

Who had Jonny called?

Jonny grabbed the phone and pressed the re-dial button. In a second, he heard the beep from each of the buttons he had pressed before he'd closed his eyes.

_Beep._

7…

_Beep._

7…

_Beep._

9…

_Beep._

2…

_Beep._

4…

_Beep._

6…

_Beep._

6…

_Beep._

2…

_Bip._

8…

_Beep._

8…

_Beep._

7? The number was vaguely familiar to Jonny… he quickly looked at the letters on the numbers and spelled out the first word he could make…

SRYAINNATUP? That couldn't be right…

* * *

THE MAN took his hands off his face. His forehead was bleeding heavily and his nose had been pounded until it was almost sideways. This, if it was possible, increased his mad, frenzied look. He grinned his yellow smile, spilling blood out of his mouth.

"I'm so excited…" he spat joyously. "I get to kill something that's more than human."

He couldn't fulfill this promise. Yet again, he was struck before he could deliver a blow. There was an explosion of bright, orange light behind him and the sound of an impact on the back of his head. The man fell forward and banged his head on the floor.

"I can't believe this!"

Eddward 'Double D' Hidanstein stood at the feet of the unconscious madman. His face was the picture definition of controlled rage. The scientist glared at Joe and tried to ask a question calmly:

"Where's your father?"

* * *

STAINLESS STEEL walls had been painted sterile white. No windows and only one visible door. No sound entered or escaped the cell. There was only the prisoner. He was the center of this little world he'd been put into.

Eddy glared at the all-white uniform he was being force to wear. It was bad enough they trapped him in a prison cell, but on his way in they had stripped him naked and dressed him like an asylum patient. This place was Hell.

The prisoner stood up and tried to pace around his cell. He almost tripped, it was so clean. Each footstep echoed in the cell, which was ten times larger than it needed to be. If Eddy whispered it would sound like a scream.

Screw Hell. This place was Limbo. A never-ending void of sameness.

_Are you enjoying your stay, Prisoner Eddy?_

No intercom system—the boxes would have interrupted the sameness. All announcements were psychically launched directly into the prisoners' heads. "The room service sucks and there's no mint on my pillow." Eddy answered quietly. "This is the last time I book online."

_A sense of humor is very welcome, Prisoner Eddy. We hope you will enjoy your stay here in New Babylon. You are our special guest, and we hope to have many more guests like you._

* * *

MORE STEEL. Wires ran through the walls, ceiling, and floor, connecting everything to everything. There was no smell except for the stench of a wire overloading and burning out or the smell of plastic. LED screens were on every wall. Supposedly, each was for a different purpose, but after a while technology just starts repeating itself.

The man in the hood walked down these hallways calmly. He had long, black hair that flowed down to his shoulders. His eyes were two different colors—a bright green and a dull blue. His movements were strangely artificial—as if every joint movement had been rehearsed.

There was a PA system here. The PA was the technological breakthrough of mankind—it let them yell at each other from different places.

_"Arthur, a significant figure has become the prisoner of the Wizard. Shall we attempt to rescue them?"_

Arthur stopped at the announcement. A security camera pointing at him seemed almost… expectant of an answer. Arthur shook his head calmly. "Just make sure the XX Unit it prepared to kill Eddward Hidanstein."

This time, Arthur knew, he would win.

* * *

PEELING, FLORAL wallpaper. That was the only way to describe the home of Denzel Foster, horror author. The dusty house looked as if it had not been lived in for years—and, Denzel realized, this was true, in a sense.

Denzel watched TV comfortably. He was expecting company shortly—his friend Danukas, a sickening old sadist, had been sent out to capture the son of Eddward Hidanstein. Those had been the Master's orders, and if they were not fulfilled…

The author merely chuckled. He had nothing to worry about—the Master needed him. The Master wouldn't kill him, would he? The author began turning up the volume on the TV.

_"… And there were no survivors. In lighter news, author Denzel Foster's new book, _The Broken Mind of Harold Monroe_, continues to break records and sits as the number-one-selling book in America, Canada, and England. Translated copies are expected to release in other countries within the next few months. In lighter news, the strange breakout of violent crime continues to increase, most notably among religious leaders. No word yet from Psychonaut HQ."_

* * *

"I SEE…" DOUBLE D sighed at the conclusion of Joe's story. "Your parents just left you and your brother? That's why you asked me to take care of Adolf?"

Joe cringed at the mention of his baby brother's name. It had been the idea of his mother's closest living relative. "Yes, just… look, don't say my brother's name and don't say my middle name." "What?" Randy asked. "Do you mean Hit—"

"That's quite enough!" Eddward yelled. "Although, it _is_ a fairly… _bad_ middle-name." He rubbed his chin as he thought about this.

"OKAY! Enough about my name! I got picked on enough by the Jewish kids at school… damn my parents."

Johanna patted Joe on the back reassuringly. "Well, I'm sure your father will turn up eventually." Eddward stood out of the seat he'd been in and sighed. "I just want you children to know that you're all going to be okay: I promise you."

The children sensed the slight fear in Johanna's father's voice. "Um… Mr. Hidanstein?" Joey raised his hand. "What's going on?"

Edd smiled as calmly as he could. "Nothing…" he lied. "Nothing at all."

* * *

Author's Notes: _I'm from the future. Come with me if you want to live. You should know, by common sense, that the number Jonny dialed isn't real. If you did not know this, please punish yourself._

Next Time: Edd: How I Met Your Mother


End file.
